Holy Spurs

Here it is the day after Christmas, and I got nearly nothing accomplished. I can't believe how badly my feet ache after having spent 8 hours standing in my kitchen on both Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I swear, if I buy myself nothing else this coming year, I'm getting one of those fancy cushioned matts that chefs use. In the meantime, I've got my feet elevated and in a little while, I'm going to try a little sleep to see if I can restore some of my musculoskeletal function.

Ordinarily, my sister in law and I split the duties of cooking, but she was sick so I cooked both days. I'd planned on lasagna for Christmas dinner, but made that on the Eve instead and went to my old standard horseradish encrusted tenderloin with port wine reduction sauce for yesterday's dinner. It was fabulous. Leading the family in prayer both nights, I ended with a simple, Amen. Mr. Larger Than Life added loudly (because he can't hear himself), "in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spurs," ending with an elaborate giant circle he made around his head. I'm still a bit perplexed by that, but oh well, if it works for him, that's OK. The thing is, I've never known him to pray, but lately, he's all about the blessings.

According to him, my mother in law used to bless him when he went out of town. I never saw this with my own eyes, so I couldn't say if it was true, or confabulation. If I had to guess, I'd say it was the latter. His oddness is worsening of late, and I'm not so sure what's going on with him. Overall, he's physically in decline as well. He has a relatively new shuffling gait that appears as though he has Parkinson's, but he has no upper extremity tremors. I've offered in the past to take him back to the neurologist, but he's so terrified of bad news, he becomes irate with the suggestion, so I stay my thoughts. What will be, will be and my husband and I will likely be caring for him in some way, shape or form.

Much to most everyone's shock, now that my son has graduated and is interviewing for a job in Washington, MLTL's primary caregiver will be vacating his position of Saint of the Year and my father in law has something new to pray for. He tells my son daily, "I pray to God that you don't get that job," and with all of his very enlarged, malevolent heart, he means what he says. He also tells my sister in law that she's not a dutiful daughter because she won't come home and care for him. Now I ask you, who'd willingly want the job of taking care of someone so manipulative and ungrateful? My friends, my husband and I see the writing on the wall.

I'd better stock up on fig vodka.

A note about the photo at the top: though I said I accomplished nearly nothing today, I was referencing chores. Knitting? I got plenty done. I'm almost through the hat chart for that gorgeous stocking cap in, Northern Knits. It's my Christmas gift to myself. After everyone left last night and my house was silent, I went about perusing my yarn and options. My eyes came to settle on the one package I've avoided for nearly a month and I couldn't help myself one moment more.